


The First Date

by LMDrums



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Awkward Relationships, Drinks, Embarrassing moments, First Dates, Friendship, Old Injury, Text Messages, War wounds, bad shoulder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 21:49:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMDrums/pseuds/LMDrums
Summary: After work one day, Sarah decides to invite John over for drinks; however, John is having a particularly hard time with his shoulder that day. Cue Sherlock getting worried and first dates getting ruined.





	The First Date

“Well Dr. Watson, care to come over for some drinks?” Sarah called into John’s office with a tempting smile. 

John focused entirely on what he was typing on his phone, sat with his shoulders hunched and his back to the door. It was evident he didn’t hear her. Sarah walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder to announce her presence. 

If Sarah knew better, she would have seen the small and stifled wince John elicited in response to her touch. She, however, mistook his behavior for surprise. 

“Ah… Dr. Sawyer,” John turned slowly. “What can I do you for?” 

Cheeks turning pink, she suddenly felt very embarrassed by her attempts to get him to her house. 

“I um… wanted to see if you cared to come over for a drink.” She smiled again. 

“Oh, well… “ John paused. “I guess that would be alright,” he offered with a sly grin. 

Heart beating hard, Sarah tried to keep her breathing under control. She had been beating around the bush for weeks. By now it was easy to tell that she considered John extremely attractive. 

“Great!” She nodded. “How about we leave now and meet each other there?” 

John raised his eyebrows at her forwardness. Sarah was acting highly unusual towards him; he found it quite humorous. 

“Yeah, okay,” he began. “Just give me a few moments to get all my things in order.” 

“Yes, yes… of course,” she blurted out. “I’ll meet you there.” With that, she turned and began to walk out of his door. 

“Sarah!” John called out.

“Yes?” She answered, coming back into the doorframe. 

“I don’t know where you live,” he reasoned with a cute giggle. 

“Oh yes.” She reached into her pocket to pull out a business card that she had written her address on earlier. 

Reaching out with his right hand, slightly odd in Sarah’s opinion as John was left-handed, he took the card from her. 

“Thanks,” John offered.

Sarah just nodded and then made her way back out to the hallway; however, she couldn’t take her eyes off the handsome military doctor. 

She stood and watched him get ready to leave although he remained oblivious to her observation. Standing up, he slowly rolled his left shoulder and groaned. He then threw all of his essentials such as his phone, charger, laptop, pills-- wait what? Why would he have a prescription bottle? He hadn’t called in sick recently and according to his medical evaluation, he didn’t have any pre-existing conditions requiring medication. 

Sarah wrinkled her forehead in confusion but continued to watch. John then pulled on his jacket eliciting another sigh as it seemed his shoulder got pulled a bit. 

Now, Sarah was no Sherlock Holmes, but even she could put together that his shoulder was the likely culprit for the medicine he carried. 

In reality, John had been at the surgery for almost twelve hours when Sarah had asked him to drinks. His left shoulder was a mess of nerve damage and scar tissue. Of course, it hurt after working for so long. The throbbing ache and burning nerves he was experiencing at the moment were all too familiar. 

John, however, was not one to pass up drinks. Ironically he had been planning to ask her out tonight had his shoulder not started acting up. Tonight was sure to be a struggle to keep his shoulder a secret from her. He wasn’t ashamed of it, not at all, actually; however, it was his greatest weakness and had some bad emotional ties to it. 

Pushing all of this out of his head, he pulled his bag onto his good shoulder and turned to walk out of the office. He met Sarah by the lift which was interesting as she should have had a significant head start. He didn’t give it much thought. 

“Want to ride together?” she suggested. “It will be cheaper.”

“Sure,” John replied with a fake smile. In all honesty, was hoping to stop off at Baker Street before heading over to grab his stronger pain prescription; however, that didn’t seem to be in the cards. 

The two rode down the lift in awkward silence except for the poor attempts at small talk on Sarah’s part. Eventually, John had got them a cab, and they arrived at Sarah’s flat within twenty minutes. 

Stepping into the living area, John reached up to lay his hand over his bad shoulder in an attempt to look sly but also to provide himself with comfort. 

Sarah then walked in behind him carrying two glasses of something he presumed was strong alcohol. He hadn’t yet taken his prescription to alleviate some of his discomforts, but he was sure planning to. Being the responsible doctor that he was, he knew he shouldn’t drink tonight. 

He was completely ripped out of this thought as the feeling of something wet began seeping into his button-up shirt. 

“I am so sorry!” Sarah announced with embarrassment. 

John immediately put it together that she had just spilled alcohol on him. (Something Sherlock was sure to smell, notice, and embarrass him about later.) 

“Oh,” John stuttered. “It’s fine. Not a big deal at all.” 

“Well, you are covered now.” She gestured to his stained shirt as she looked away in guilt. 

John, at that moment, decided to take advantage of this opportunity and grant himself some much-needed privacy. 

“Could I use your shower?” 

“Of course,” she replied, still feeling uneasy about the situation she had caused. 

He grabbed his bag and followed her down the hall to the washroom where she left him to sort himself out. 

As soon as he closed to door, he sighed in relief. God, he was getting old. His shoulder was killing him. It hadn’t hurt this bad in a while. 

He popped the lid off the prescription bottle in defeat and dry swallowed two pills before turning on the water. He pulled off his clothes slowly, being especially careful with his tender joint. 

Getting into the shower, he was sure to avoid the mirror, not wanting to see what his face looked like at the moment. 

He closed his eyes in bliss and sighed as the hot water soothed his aching body. Feeling most of his tension melt away and the sticky remnants of the Sarah incident gone, he stepped out of his haven feeling much better than before.

The medicine he had taken had helped in easing the brunt of his pain, but he was nowhere near satisfied with his pain levels. Longing for some kind of compress or even lidocaine plasters, he debated about texting Sherlock to come and save him. 

Eventually deciding against that option, he put on his pants, trousers, and white undershirt that was still soaking wet; however, going shirtless was not an option. 

Meanwhile, in the living room, Sarah sat on her sofa listening to John’s phone go off every couple minutes as he had left it on the table when he went to wash up. She didn’t want to invade his privacy, but she couldn’t help being curious. 

Picking up the device, not surprised to see that all seven messages were from Sherlock, she scrolled down to the first text of the thread. Her interests peak immediately. 

Come home immediately, you are required. SH

She audibly giggled at Sherlock’s syntax and word choice. She couldn’t help herself from reading the rest of the messages. 

John, this is important, come quickly. SH

John, now. SH

Alright, I don’t require your skills, but I felt it necessary to advise you to take your stronger prescription tonight. SH

Surely you are experiencing discomfort in your shoulder after working for twelve hours. Also, your barometric pressure monitor, which you irresponsibly left at the flat, indicated a significant change which usually seems to affect you. SH

Do you require me to bring you anything? SH

Also, I know you are at Sarah’s. If you don’t reply I’m coming over in twenty minutes. SH

Sarah tried to comprehend what she just read. She had never seen or heard Sherlock attempt to be kind or considerate before. Before she could consider what to do with this new information, John walked into the room. 

“Did Sherlock text me?” he inquired while pointing to his phone laying in Sarah’s hand. 

“Oh uh…” She was taken by surprise. “Yeah, he did.”

“Let’s see what he needs shall we?” John smiled and took the phone. 

John scrolled through the texts, face growing more red and embarrassed. 

“Did you read these?” John questioned, wanting to know where he stood. 

“Yes. I’m sorry,” she admitted. 

“Well… I guess I can ask for a hot water bottle now without lying about why,” he reasoned, trying to find a positive and lighten the mood. 

“Sure,” she replied slowly, still confused. 

She came back with the compress and handed it to John who was sitting on her sofa looking incredibly exposed. 

“I guess I owe you an explanation if you read all of those,” he began. “Christ, I can’t believe Sherlock did that.” 

“He cares about you,” she reasoned. 

“Yeah, well, it’s just annoying sometimes. I can usually ignore it, and I definitely can handle it myself.” He seemed self-conscious as well. 

John placed the water bottle on his bad shoulder while Sarah took a seat at his side. 

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” Sarah inquired, trying to be gentle. 

John closed his eyes and exhaled loudly in an attempt to sike himself up to talk about the worst day of his life. 

“I got shot.” 

“What? When?” She was shocked. 

“I was uh… in Afghanistan when I was in the army. It happened about a year ago.”

“Oh… that uh… wasn’t what I was expecting. I was thinking some recent sports injury.” 

“I wish,” he replied with a sigh. 

Silence fell over the flat and Sarah looked over to meet John’s eyes; however, he seemed to be falling asleep. 

About five minutes later, John appeared completely asleep when there was a knock at the door. 

“John!” Sherlock called from behind the door. 

Sarah jumped up quickly to greet him, but he was already walking into the flat. 

“Ah, Sarah. Where is John?” he inquired. 

“He is asleep,” she informed. 

“Oh.” He lowered his voice. “Make sure he ends up in a bed, or he will wake up with a stiff back and be insufferable.” 

“Stiff back… or a stiff shoulder,” she alluded. 

“Did you read his text messages?” Sherlock replied defensively. 

“Well yes… he was in the shower, and you send seven messages.” 

“Thank you for informing me of what I already know. Did he appreciate you spilling alcohol on his shirt?” 

“How did you know?” 

“I observe.” 

“Of course,” she replied sarcastically. 

“And yes, his shoulder will be stiff and much worse if he sleeps on a sofa.” 

“I’ll make sure he is okay.” 

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Well, he obviously told you about the origin of his injury which speaks extensively to his level of trust for you.” 

She nodded and grinned, thinking of the sleeping man on her sofa. 

“Take his stronger prescription and lidocaine plasters, so he can have them in the morning.” Sherlock handed her a small bag which she assumed contained both.

“Thank you,” she replied. 

“Certainly. He and I have a new case tomorrow. He must be in top shape.” 

“I see.” 

She walked him out with a smile, glad that she had finally been able to see the side of Sherlock that John always so eagerly talked about.


End file.
